


domesticity and distractions

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Series: Leather Jackets and Lab Coats [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domesticity, Established Relationship, F/F, Lisa's dramatic and Caitlin's indulgent, Thai Food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:04:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lisa talks Caitlin into going out for dinner. It's adorably domestic.</p><p>Or, you know. So Caitlin thinks.</p><p>(Stands alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	domesticity and distractions

**Author's Note:**

> Who has a finished chem lab report?
> 
> Not this fic writer!

Lisa drapes herself across the table, carefully shoving Caitlin's reading out from in front of her until, instead of staring thoughtfully down at the latest paper one of her old friends from grad school had published, she's staring down amusedly at the back of her girlfriend's head. Lisa rolls from her stomach to her back, gazes up at Caitlin with a seriousness on her face that's quite contradicted by the situation. Caitlin lets her hands fall into her lap, raises an eyebrow as she waits for an explanation.

 

"You haven't eaten in at least eight hours," Lisa tells her, folding her own hands over her stomach.

 

Caitlin glances over at the movement, and Lisa's smirking when she pulls her attention back to Lisa's face. She rolls her eyes, a touch of real annoyance this time, and prods Lisa's side lightly. "I had lunch," she points out. "And breakfast too, actually, so I'm _certainly_ not underfed today. It's been maybe six hours since I ate, at _best_." She prods Lisa again, tries and fails to keep a smile off of her lips as she asks, teasing, "Are you sure you aren't projecting?"

 

Lisa frowns, turning her eyes from Caitlin's to stare somewhere over her shoulder as she pretends to consider the question. "Well, now that you've pointed that out…" she drawls, and she's infinitely better at hiding her own smile, "it's possible I'm just a bit peckish."

 

"Acting like you're concerned for me when you're really just concerned for _yourself_. You're awful."

 

"You're dating me." Lisa sits up, sliding so she drops lightly onto Caitlin, straddling her with a smug grin on her face. (Caitlin's hands moving to her hips is _automatic_ not _encouragement_.) "And that means you're obligated to buy me dinner," she purrs, peppering quick, soft kisses over Caitlin's cheeks. "Unless, of course, you want me to dip into the funds from my last—"

 

"No!" Caitlin interjects, too loud and too abrupt based on the way Lisa's forehead drops to her shoulder and her body is wracked with silent laughter. "I'll pay," she finishes weakly, feeling her cheeks heat.

 

"I was thinking Thai," Lisa tells her, magnanimously ignoring the blush, and tugs the collar of Cait's sweater aside to press a kiss against the pale shoulder underneath. "I like peanuts."

 

"Mm, yeah, Thai sounds delicious." Caitlin awkwardly attempts to push away from the table without dislodging Lisa (okay, fine, so maybe she's actually not strong enough to just force Lisa to move), but their combined weight produces too much friction between the chair and the floor. She only moves them an inch, inch and a half, as Lisa ignores her vague flailing in favor of continuing to press chaste kisses on all of the skin she can currently get to.

 

Caitlin gives up when Lisa snakes a hand up her sweater. "I thought you wanted to eat," she complains, then glares as Lisa's face snaps up, smirk firmly in place. "For the love of God, do not go there!" she growls.

 

Lisa snickers, trails her knuckles across Caitlin's ribs. "I figured we could work up an appetite first?"

 

Caitlin tugs her hand out, rolling her eyes. She wriggles her hips in an ineffectual attempt to dislodge her girlfriend, but hopefully it gets the point across that she wants Lisa to move. "Either we go now, or we'll end up never leaving," she points out. "And then you'd have to eat box mac'n'cheese instead of pad thai."

 

Lisa heaves a sigh, but the fact that she doesn't argue any further suggests that either she really is _starving_ or she was just trying to make Caitlin blush and wasn't particularly invested in the idea of sex before dinner, anyway. She just swings a leg, rising from Caitlin's lap the same way she dismounts her bike, and then extends a hand. "Come on, honey. Time to spend all that money I married you for."

 

"One," Caitlin says, taking Lisa's hand, "we aren't married. And two—" she surges up and kisses her, hard and fast and just enough to smear her lipstick into Lisa's—"you have way more money than I do, even if it's all misbegotten."

 

***

 

Caitlin's just beginning to get a little restless- thirty minutes on the phone with Len in the middle of their dinner, Lisa, really?- when her thief drops back into the seat across from her, cheeks flushed from the cold and eyes bright.

 

"He and Mick are having a difference of opinions," Lisa explains, reaching out to squeeze her hand in apology. "I had to talk him down from freezing Mick's door shut, and then he passed the phone to Mick so I could talk _him_ down from setting Len's couch on fire."

 

"It's fine," Cait tells her (and it is, really, considering how many times Team Flash has called Caitlin in in the middle of various dates), squeezing back. "They're, um. Otherwise fine?" (She tries, quite hard, to not hold their criminal ventures against them when she and Lisa are just having casual conversations, especially considering how hypocritical it makes her feel since she's _dating_ _Golden Glider_ , but she's pretty awful at it.)

 

"You don't want to know," Lisa says, laughing. (She doesn't hold it against Caitlin; her girl is already far more amenable to Lisa's past-present-future of crime than she has any right to ask her to be.) She squeezes one last time before dropping Caitlin's hand to pick up her fork. "Where were we?"

 

"Oh, um." Caitlin scrunches up her nose as she thinks, spinning her own fork idly- she'd given up waiting and finished her own food after about twenty minutes- until she recalls. "Cats' tails being a solid reason they're superior to dogs."

 

"Less the tails themselves. More how they use them."

 

"Ah, yes." Caitlin presses her lips tightly together as she tries not to laugh. "'Balance in general plus opposing torque to allow them to land on their feet,' versus 'look at me, I'm happy and I just broke a lamp.'"

 

Lisa smiles, points her fork at Cait with a wink. "Exactly."

 

Caitlin watches her eat for a minute before commenting, "I'm pretty sure you only like them because you're a _cat burglar._ "

 

Lisa shrugs. "You can't prove anything."

 

She glances up, smirk hovering on her lips, and they burst into laughter simultaneously.

 

Lisa eats quickly, still managing to make ridiculous, innuendo-laden comments between forkfuls of noodles, and she covers the tip with an absurd number of bills though Caitlin does indeed pay for the meal itself. They decide to walk home, bundled up just slightly against the bite of the early fall wind, hand in hand and leaning into each other. They don't speak, but the silence hovering around them isn't awkward, unpleasant—it's light with ease of practice, warm with familiarity.

 

Caitlin likes the way their hands fit together, even with Lisa's leather gloves and her own fleece ones, likes the way Lisa's tall enough to lift their hands and draw Cait's hand across her body to tuck her in against Lisa's side. Walking with her makes Caitlin feel a little helplessly in love, a little giddy in a way that she hasn't since Ronnie—

 

and the first time Lisa saw the ring on the chain around Caitlin's neck, she froze so abruptly Caitlin thought something had happened, she'd gotten hurt somehow, and then Lisa was suddenly gone, the door to the apartment slamming shut, and it'd taken a day to realize what had happened, another day of anxiety and confusion and _she can't possibly have a problem with the fact that I used to be married can she_ before Lisa returned, her own ring clutched tight in her hand, Roscoe's name on her lips—

 

and she's so glad she let her feelings override her logic the day Lisa dragged her into a kiss and then pulled back, smirking, to casually ask, "So, dinner?"

 

***

 

"Barry?" Caitlin calls, knocking on the doorframe of his open lab. "Are we still on for lunch?"

 

"Yeah, it'll only be a sec, if you could just—"

 

"Say no more!" Caitlin interjects with a grin. "Door—" she removes the wedge, steps inside so that the door can swing freely—"shut!"

 

"You're awesome!" Barry shouts, and then she hears the telltale whoosh of him zipping around, finishing up his work. She grins and wanders further into the lab, not even bothering to resist the curiosity that tells her to poke through the files strewn across the main table.

 

"What are you working on?" she calls, since he can tell her faster than she can parse it from the report.

 

"Jewelry theft from last night. We have video that proves Peek-a-Boo was involved, but she definitely had a partner. We just can't figure out—" Barry skids to a stop in front of her and grabs his coat, beaming—"who her accomplice was. Don't think it was one of the other Rogues, given the distinct lack of their usual, um—"

 

"Flair?" Caitlin suggests, glancing up from the pictures of the crime scene.

 

"Yeah. That. I just had to process the last of things, start running some prints. Unfortunately, it looks like whoever was with her used gloves but." He shrugs. "Worth a shot, in case they made a mistake somewhere along the line."

 

"Hm." Caitlin tilts her head, frowning at the lipstick print on the guard's cheek. "Where was this?"

 

Barry raises an eyebrow. "Uh, nineteenth and Martin?"

 

"One sec," she tells him, holding up a finger as she fishes for her phone, hits speed dial #2 and waits patiently as it rings. (Barry's looking at her curiously, but she just mouths, "Tell you in a second.".)

 

"Caitlin, darling, did you call me in the middle of your lunch with cute forensics boy?" Lisa asks breezily when she picks up, and there's a commotion in the background that, if Caitlin had to guess, is probably Len and Mick arguing over something or another.

 

"Lisa, _darling_ ," Caitlin says, in that sweet tone that threatens bodily harm, "did we go out to dinner last night just so you could have an alibi?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have three WIPs for these two, but no, the one I finish is the one I started the same day


End file.
